


Daily Grind- Dishes

by squirrellysemantics



Series: Daily Grind [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Edgeplay, M/M, Masturbation, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:13:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squirrellysemantics/pseuds/squirrellysemantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a series of vignettes where the boys accomplish daily tasks and by that I mean have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daily Grind- Dishes

You’d think that the combined knowledge of four grown people would produce some sort of meal without the need of ensuring a fire extinguisher was on hand but in this case, you’d be wrong. The level of wrong normally associated with the captain of the Titanic telling the crew not to worry about any silly little icebergs or people who put ketchup on bacon sandwiches.

Shaun had nothing but scowls for the scorched mess on his plate. Thank goodness for take away. 

The ladies had done the easier share of the washing up and legged it as soon as they were able, leaving him with disposing the rest of what wouldn’t be classified in most scientific laboratories as fit for human consumption. He added the dish to the sink with its sorry brethren, dreading the amount of scrubbing in his future.

Or perhaps a certain someone might actually be useful for once.

There was a nudge at his shoulder from Desmond stepping in alongside him. “Stuff’s gonna need a while to soak, huh?”

Shaun let his tongue cluck at the mess. “A vat of acid, more like-”

A finger snaked into his belt, tugging away at it and Shaun was twirling.

Twirling was not something he normally did. It was simply not done. Yet, here he was, flying around when he least expected it, letting out the yip at a pitch two steps higher than your average startled poodle. 

The tongue that teased at the corner of his mouth made whatever he’d been worrying about not the least bit important. That same tongue left Shaun bereft for a moment, replacing it with a puff of laughter that tickled his cheek.

“How ‘bout we kill some time?”

Desmond knew all the best ways to kill time.

The man had a kiss that was never a simple affair.  It wasn’t just tongue and lips and teeth, though there was that in abundance. It was the intertwining arms and hips and thighs, unashamedly throwing his whole body into it from the very first touch.  It was that long lean frame leaning into Shaun to pin him against the sink, the hand cradling the nape of his neck, those fingers cupping the wing of his shoulder blade to make sure that there was no chance of escape.

Little fear of that.

In fact, Shaun found himself tethered to the spot, capturing a bottom lip for a taste, tracing the little chapped bit that followed along with the tiny scar he’d come to know well.  His hands went searching, discovering that delectable hint of skin along the small of Desmond’s back where his shirt usually rode up.

He only had it in his grasp for a few moments. Desmond was never still for long, always moving, always exploring.

This was not a bad thing.

No, not a bad thing at all and Shaun tossed his head back as a reminder that the place just beneath his ear was in need of some attention. 

Desmond went straight for it, suckling at offered flesh with the scrape of fresh stubble adding the right hint of roughness.  This was only good news for Shaun, who went to work on the taut neck it offered up.  It was irresistible and he went after it, mouthing lean muscle with languid strokes.

A pointed “bastard!” escaped Shaun when chilly hands found their way under his shirt, but they skated away before he could do more than squirm.  The apology came in the form of a quick lap at his throat and but that didn’t put a dent in Shaun’s desire for revenge. 

His own fingers snuck in beneath the edge of tattered jeans, digging into the magnificent ass found therein, earning Shaun a yelp from Desmond that would have done a twelve-year-old girl proud.

“I’m sorry,” Shaun offered, innocently enough. Buttocks flexed under his touch and he was more than happy to move along with them. “Was that too cold for your delicate widdle bottom?”

“Nah.” Desmond had a dismissive quirk of the eyebrow that should have set off all sorts of alarms. “There’s a good place to warm up right here.”

That was all the warning Shaun got before a hand made of ice shot down the front of his trousers.  It forced him into a wild lurch, squeezing against the counter’s edge pressed to his backside as he wilted under the cold.  “Jesussweeteverloving _christ_!”

The chill didn’t last long and every bit of oxygen in the room turning boiling hot when another hand attacked his belt. All of Shaun’s focus coned down on the little bit of tongue Desmond had peeking out of the corner of his mouth, that face screwed up intent on his task of getting past a pair of boxers.

A small tug and suddenly there was nothing between Shaun and a major eyeful for anyone who fancied a late night snack. Caught up against a sink full of dirty dishes with his cock out on display was not how Shaun envisioned his day going, but Desmond was inches away with a spark of fire in his eye and nothing else really mattered.

Fingers raking his belly got Shaun shaking from the shivers racing up his spine. Desmond had a little noise of contentment at the sight of it, humming to himself with a slow smile that was all the right kinds of evil.

Evil enough that it demanded Shaun check for a tail. He was quite thorough about it, taking two great handfuls of ass for inspection.  He checked again, caressing both cheeks.

And once more for good measure. Couldn’t be too careful.

Any higher thought processes flew straight out the window as soon as Desmond moved in for the kill. Shaun danced for the hand around his cock though it took great care, taking its time to memorize every crease, every vein. There were no brisk strokes, not a single hasty motion but Shaun was up on his toes all the same, a solitary finger seeking out that cluster of nerves just behind the scrotum that thought each touch was made of pure lightning. 

It was difficult for Shaun to see through his fog, but Desmond’s unabashed delight acted as a beacon.   The free hand Shaun hadn’t realized he’d been missing found him, though Desmond kept his touch to just the head, fully awake now, jutting out and begging for attention.  Grinding wasn’t an option, not with his important bits under Desmond’s control.

“l’ll leave you two alone, shall I?” Shaun keened in desperation with a less than subtle jerk of his hips. “Though I’d love my cock back when you’re through. As body parts go, it’s one of my favourites.”

The vibration of laughter radiating through Desmond’s grip had Shaun twisting up in knots.

“You are _such_ a baby,” his tormenter sighed happily against his skin. “You _and_ your dick need a little patience.”

A voice that was all whisky and smoke filled Shaun’s ear. “Trust me on this one.”

There wasn’t a penis in the world that could say no to that.

Desmond moved onwards, placing a fingertip on the underside of his new toy, putting gentle pressure on the rise of flesh just beneath the crown.

The sensation was pleasant enough but nowhere near what Shaun wanted, nowhere near what his body demanded because right now every inch of him was screaming for swift and rough and all sorts of everything all at once.

But he waited. 

And only because he’d been asked.

Then it began in earnest.

A circle was its humble beginning.  Desmond had his small smile, on hand steadying the shaft at its base, the other targeting the frenulum with no slide or glide, just subtle, constant pressure in the tiniest of tiny circles.

It began slowly for Shaun, a pool of carnality springing up at the base of his spine, warm and fluid as it spread to his limbs. Time slowed to nothing as the whole of him took on a singular nexus, every nerve-ending coming alive, conducting a wave of heat that came straight from that endless, unrelenting pressure. 

The muscles in his legs grew unsteady, the strength in them leeching out in a rush. There was no memory of when his hands acquired their death grip on the kitchen counter but Shaun barely had the strength to keep himself upright, not with arousal spiraling up and up and up-

A sadist chuckled at his ear lobe. “Time to wake the neighbors.”

Shaun couldn’t parse a damn thing that was said, not when he was steadily losing brain cell after brain cell. His hips strained, quaking in their desire to pump but Desmond held him to this agonizing pace.

 _Fuck_.

What fool was shouting like that?  Shaun couldn’t bring himself to care and Desmond didn’t seem to mind.

_Oh, god._

Every atom of his being revolved on that singular point of connection that he never knew he had and he expected that he had more than a passing familiarity with his own cock. What was left of his senses had gone numb, his mind unable to process anything beyond the pleasure granted to him by this perfect creature.

_Desmond, I... I-_

There was nothing else in the world, just the two of them and this permeating, all encompassing burn that threatened to eat Shaun alive. So very near the edge, but Desmond held him back, only to wind him back up again. And again.  And again.

_Yes… oh …. **yes**._

How long?  How long had they been like this?  Too long for his sanity. Not long enough for everything else. His body was a mindless thing, bucking before Shaun knew what was happening.

_Desmond, **please-**_

This was both their undoing.  Where he’d been slow and methodical, Desmond became quick and erratic and Shaun could feel it, the release he’d sought out- that he’d been kept from- bubble just under the surface. 

Again with all of the shouting!  It was utter nonsense now- loud, incoherent strings of words that could only have come from some deranged lunatic.

Desmond found it all very amusing. “Houston, we are go.”

Blast off.   

Shaun spasmed as a whole, vision gone completely white as he peaked.  He was a geyser, caught in a magnificent crescendo that didn’t seem to end.  Desmond was there, no less persistent, guiding him through wave after wave. 

Impossible to keep upright. Shaun’s legs almost gave way, but the man responsible managed to keep him on his feet somehow.  Tucking his head into the proffered shoulder turned out to be no refuge for Shaun, Desmond wringing another pulse from him that he didn’t know he had.

The world slowly tipped back onto its axis but the aftershocks kept coming.  Warmth clung to Shaun as he tried to return to higher reasoning and failed.

Desmond seemed rather pleased with the result, idly painting them both in warm stickiness of which there was plenty.

This had been no small thing. There were traces of him _everywhere_.  

Shaun blinked owlishly at the aftermath, lungs still demanding their air. “That went rather well, I think.”

 Agreement came in the form of a kiss.


End file.
